


Dinner and a Movie

by whatsyourask



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, OR IS IT, tyrelliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26380075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsyourask/pseuds/whatsyourask
Summary: Elliot has been coming over to Tyrell's to WFH ever since Tyrell spent the night at Elliot's. Dinner and a movie happen. Elliot is 2% less anxious and Tyrell's soft af.
Relationships: Elliot Alderson & Tyrell Wellick, Elliot Alderson/Tyrell Wellick
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	Dinner and a Movie

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 to my previous works. Although the context is essentially non-existent so can be read on its own.

Tyrell chuckles as he watches Elliot chop tomatoes and struggle with the task. The look of concentration on Elliot's face is so precious, Tyrell watches him for another moment before abandoning his boiling pot of pasta to offer the guy a hand.

"Here, let me," He takes the knife from Elliot, their hands brushing in the process, "See, try holding your fingers like this to make sure you don't cut yourself," Tyrell demonstrates and smiles.

Elliot rolls his eyes but carries on as instructed, "Hey, I didn't know I was signing up for MasterChef when you proposed we cook instead of getting takeout," He states defensively, moving onto garlic which proves to be more challenging than tomatoes. 

Elliot has been coming over to Tyrell's almost every night for the past few weeks so they could work on taking down Whiterose. Ever since Tyrell spent the night at Elliot's, both felt a mutual pull to stay close. They've fallen into a routine of coding for hours until one of them pulled away from their laptop to order food sometime around midnight. To his satisfaction, Elliot has witnessed Tyrell slurp ramen and tear into a greasy pizza. Perhaps that's why Tyrell had gone to an Italian deli around the corner to get fresh produce and pasta before Elliot came over this time.

"Don't underestimate the power of pasta sauce made from scratch, it makes all the difference," Tyrell says as he adds the veg cut up by Elliot to the pan. Elliot stands by Tyrell's side and watches it cook away, trying to remember the last time he put together an actual meal. 

Tyrell notices Elliot space out, "Where'd you go?" He asks softly, tugging gently at the cuff of Elliot's hoodie. 

"Um... I guess it's been a while since I used real ingredients," Elliot chuckles, keeping his eyes on the pan in front of him. 

Tyrell doesn't comment at first, just drains the pasta, and splits it between two plates. "Here, why don't you spoon the sauce over," He instructs, his mind elsewhere. 

"And yeah, I have to say, this is probably the first time I'm using the kitchen since... Joanna.." He stumbles over his words and turns away.

Elliot swears he heard Tyrell's voice crack, which makes his heart sink. He's about to offer an automated response before realizing the man must've heard one too many half-hearted sorry's about his loss. Instead, he swallows a lump in his throat and does something else.

Tyrell is about to busy himself with washing up when he feels Elliot press to his back, arms hesitantly coming to wrap around his waist. If Tyrell hadn't already cried out all the tears he had over the past few months, he'd be breaking down. But he melts into Elliot's embrace which has become so familiar by now. 

Having Elliot by his side over the last couple of weeks has helped Tyrell heal better than months spent mourning in the solitary of his empty apartment. Elliot made him feel things he'd forgotten could be felt. Often they'd end up working from the couch, both on their laptops, inching closer together until one would eventually rest their head on the other's shoulder. Soon, wordlessly as always, they would put away the work and fall asleep just before sunrise, eventually finding comfort in each other's arms.

Now, Elliot rests his forehead against the back of Tyrell's neck, breathing in a hint of clean laundry mostly overpowered by the potent cologne Tyrell wears in both his suits and loungewear. Elliot smiles to himself, admitting he prefers the latter attire. He feels Tyrell sink into the hug, his arms wrapping around Elliot's. 

Eventually, Elliot gives one last tug, "Let's go eat before it gets cold," He says before letting go of Tyrell. 

Without meeting Elliot's eyes, Tyrell sets the plates down on the breakfast bar thinking it might be less formal than the dining table. They eat sitting side by side on the bar stools. 

"This is really fucking good," Elliot admits and smiles at Tyrell assuringly, wanting any remaining uneasiness gone. 

Tyrell looks up at him with an 'I told you so' grimace, "It must be the "real ingredients," He mocks and smiles back at Elliot before digging back in. They finish eating in comfortable silence, exchanging amused smirks.

"Should we go back to work?" Tyrell turns to Elliot once they empty their plates. 

Elliot thinks for a moment and shrugs, "We've done plenty for tonight." 

That surprises Tyrell as it hasn't even gone midnight yet. Normally, Elliot doesn't slip out until early morning hours. He doesn't want Elliot to leave. 

Elliot speaks before Tyrell can think of anything to say, "We could watch something though?" He suggests carefully, without lifting his gaze off the kitchen counter.

Tyrell is taken aback again and lets a smile escape as relief washes over him. _He's not going_. Most nights they put The Office on in the background which they've found to be a common ground. Elliot wasn't too keen on nordic noir, just like Tyrell didn't favor any of the 80s sci-fi. 

"Yeah? Of course, lets tidy up first. I wash, you dry?" Tyrell offers casually as if they do 'dinner and a movie' all the time. 

Elliot's not too sure what got into him, but spending time with Tyrell, participating in such a mundane task of cooking together had him wanting more. He's perfectly aware their relationship is getting past a platonic one. The looks and laughs and touches... It's joined effort too, he can tell Tyrell can feel it as well, even if neither has addressed it. They both lost people they loved the most, now all they've got is each other. 

Tyrell proposes they ditch the couch and leads Elliot to the bedroom. He browses Netflix while Elliot changes into soft joggers Tyrell's provided. When he joins Tyrell under the covers, Elliot notes how soft and expensive the sheets feel. It smells like Tyrell too. He's realizing the scent he's been associating Tyrell with is clean linen, not so much the tangy cologne.

Tyrell smiles to himself, his gaze glued to Elliot now, just taking in how comfortable and cozy and small he looks in his bed, wearing his clothes. Tyrell could get used to the sight. He'd love to get used to it. 

"Stare much?" Elliot questions, catching the other man's eyes and raising his brows at him. Tyrell smiles foolishly and bites his lip, breaking the eye contact.

"What do you wanna watch?" He motions towards the big screen in front of the bed and offers Elliot the remote.

"I don't mind," Elliot shrugs, adjusting the pillows behind him to settle in, "We can watch one of your scandinavian murder shows if you want?"

Tyrell puts _Bron_ on, one of his favorites, and jokes that Elliot can't moan about the pick since he let Tyrell choose. That doesn't last long as Elliot complains about the subtitles being annoying to read.

"I can translate it to you instead?" Tyrell suggests half-jokingly and switches off the subtitles, raising a brow at Elliot. 

They do end up shuffling closer together so Tyrell could translate into Elliot's ear. Elliot is rather pleased about the arrangement. Tyrell's soft voice and warm breath tickle his neck, sending goosebumps down his spine. Unaware, he leans back and in response feels Tyrell's arms wrap around his waist, a hand on his abdomen pulling him closer so his back is right against Tyrell's chest. 

"This okay?" Tyrell checks, mumbling behind Elliot's ear; warm prickles, more sparks of heat.

"I'm not going to break," Elliot huffs a short laugh in response and turns his head to meet Tyrell's face. His blue eyes, as vast as ever, turned inky in the dim light, partly covered by sandy strands of hair that's got too long. Elliot wants to brush it out of his eyes with a touch as delicate and careful as Tyrell's been to him. Instead, he swallows and they both speak up at the same time.

"You know you can-"

"Is it okay if I-" 

Tyrell is the one to continue, "I was going to say, you should stay the night. You're always welcome to." He _does_ remind him that every night when they're dozing off on the couch after working for hours on end. Yet Tyrell always wakes up alone. 

The other night, as Elliot was putting his sneakers on as quietly as he could, he heard Tyrell mumble in his sleep. He pleaded Elliot to stay. Elliot carefully ran his fingers through the soft blond hair before walking out the door. 

Tonight, however, Elliot nods in response - he will stay. But he doesn't trust his voice to repeat what he himself began asking earlier. And anyway, a while ago, he's been told it's lame to ask. 

He comes to rest his forehead against Tyrell's and closes his eyes. Neither is sure who's the one to place their lips on the other. It feels so natural and fitting: the world doesn't stand still, there are no fireworks either. It's longed for, but not desperate. Tyrell cups Elliot's face as they kiss ever so softly. Both can't help but feel a warm familiar sensation; have they done this before? One of the previous nights, both dopey with sleep?

Elliot's fingers are playing with Tyrell's hair with new-found ease when he feels Tyrell's lips smile under his. As they pull apart, he finally opens his eyes finding Tyrell's an inch away.

"Hi," Tyrell whispers and rests his forehead back against Elliot's. "Is this how much you hate this program that you'd rather kiss me instead?"

"No, I've wanted to do that for a while actually," Elliot blurts out, deadpan, either overlooking the banter or being unable to come up with a witty answer. 

"You're adorable," Tyrell grins at Elliot in awe. 

Just then something clouds Elliot's eyes and Tyrell doesn't fail to notice. He could've sworn the ever so familiar look of anguish and distress on Elliot's face has faded away massively over the past few weeks. The melancholy downcast gaze turned into confident eye contact. Stolen glances became staring contests, resulting in amused smirks and eye rolls. Tyrell's heart sinks seeing that troubled expression return to Elliot's face. 

"Elliot?" Tyrell searches for Elliot's eyes. He pulls away, giving him space, but keeps hold of Elliot's hand.

Elliot lets out a shaky breath as he gathers his thoughts, "Tyrell, I want this," He motions at their firmly gripped hands, his voice reduced to whisper. Tyrell nods eagerly, he wants it too.

"But I've told you before," Elliot continues, "I've lost everyone I care about."

He fidgets with Tyrell's fingers and presses on before letting the other man open his mouth, "As in, everyone who gets close to me is hunted and eliminated to hurt... or manipulate me."

"These things just don't end well. I just want you to know the risks," he stresses at last. 

Elliot waits for Tyrell to say something. Tyrell's fingers lift his head by his chin so their eyes could meet again.

"I'll do this if it kills me," Tyrell replies matter-of-factly, far too calmly for Elliot's liking, but it earns a smile from him. 

Tyrell sees Elliot relax so he comes back closer to hug him around his shoulders. He lets Elliot burrow his head in his neck and hears his brittle whisper, so quiet Tyrell would've missed it if he didn't feel warm lips moving against his collarbone.

"If anything happened to you..." 

Tyrell cuts him off, "You're not going to lose me." 

"Elliot, you're all I have left and I'm not letting go of you," He plants a heartfelt kiss on his temple. 

"I'd like that," Elliot answers in a low mutter and gets comfortable in Tyrell's arms. 

He _would_ like that. Elliot's been going home every night unsure of what would it mean to stay. He knows now. It's being held, understood, and protected by the man he's started to care for so deeply. The man who's been willing to put his life on the line for Elliot since day one. Now, Elliot would do the same in a heartbeat.

So he'll stay.


End file.
